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UNITED STATES OF AMEKICA. 



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ION E 

A TALE OF EPHESUS 



By JAMES S. PARK 



Suggested by Edwin Long's Painting 
"CHRIST OR DIANA" 



NEW YORK 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
182 Fifth Avenue 



\x^^ 




YS'^ 






Copyright, i8g2, 
By James S. Park. 



JHnt'fefrsffo Press: 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 




lONE. 



I. 

N days of seedtime of the Christian 
faith, 
When men were seeking every- 
where for light, 
Or clasping old traditions close, there lived 
At Ephesus a venerable Greek 
Called Ctesiphon. The changing years had 

left 
Their grief as well as gladness in his heart ; 
His life-long friend, Antonius of Rome, 
Coming on business ventures, year by year. 
Had been persuaded, ere his last return, 
To leave awhile his young son, Marius ; 
But midway in the voyage the treacherous 
wind 



6 lone. 

Whirled the calm ripples into angry waves, 
And driving his galley hard upon the rocks, 
Sunk it, with all on board. The sad news 

came 
Months afterward to the Ephesian home, 
And music changed to mourning. But the 

boy 
Was loved and cherished by his father's 

friend, 
And hardly did he know his orphanage 
Till his adoption. Soon he had become 
The dear companion in all pleasant hours 
Of the three sisters, younger than himself, 
lone, Lesbia, and Pelope. 
Gay, eager rivals were they in the search 
For . the first wild- flowers after winter's 

snows ; 
They watched the kingly eagle, floating high. 
Or wondered at the rainbow's radiant arch. 
Or roaming in the dim old forest, learned 
Secrets of birds and bees, of trees and 

moss ; 
They sailed their mimic fleets upon the 

stream. 



lone. 7 

While sitting down, they cut long, hollow 
stalks, 

And breathing in them brought forth mel- 
low tones ; 

Or chased, with ringing laughter, playful 
goats 

Around the field, till flushed and out of 
breath. 

They sank down panting in the fragrant 
grass ; 

And many another pastime filled the days' 

Deep chalice to the brim with sparkling 
wine. 

Five happy years went by on shining wings ; 
Then came a change, as Marius was of age 
For Roman schooling, as Antonius wished, 
In eloquence, and arms, and government, 
At the world's capital. Darker seemed the 

house. 
And dimmed the sunshine over all the land. 
When he had left them, after long farewells, 
lone wandered restlessly about. 
Missing her leader in a hundred ways, 



8 lone. 

Till marking how a cloud enwrapped the 

hearts 
Of father, mother, sisters, even the slaves. 
She strove by thoughtful, gentle ministry 
To bring back smiles and gladness. Day 

by day 
Their loss was lessened, and she took his 

place, 
As far as might be, to depending ones. 

Then letters came, as months and years 

rolled on, 
Telling of progress, with a glow of pride 
In deeds of ancient days, and how he 

burned 
Already to be leader of a host 
In some great enterprise. lone felt 
A thrill of sympathy with all his thought, 
And treasured up the words like precious 

gems, 
Because he wrote them. 

But a dark-browed Guest 
Was daily drawing nearer to the house 
Unbidden, till at length they heard a knock 



lone. 9 

Imperious, and he entered, took the hand 
Of wife and mother in his chiUing clasp, 
And she whose Ufe was closely twined with 

theirs, 
Making one harp-string, sounding full and 

sweet, 
Passed into silence, with the voiceless 

shades. 
Then Ctesiphon's sad, desolated heart, 
Too tender for his grim philosophy, 
Would not be comforted, but wandered out 
Into the darkness, asking for some strong 
Assurance of an endless, unseen hfe. 
With re-united souls, but all in vain. 
lone nobly strove again to fill 
A place made vacant, but her weight of grief 
Was overpowering sometimes, till she slipped 
Away from all, and wept despairingly. 
The younger children felt the sudden shock 
Less keenly, and their spirits soon revived. 
Till sunshine almost filled their restless 

hearts, 
Save in the father's presence, when they 

marked 



lo lone. 

How slow his step, how sorrowful his face, 
Where grief had ploughed deep furrows in 

the brow, 
And scattered ashes on his hair and beard, 
Until it seemed that in the space of months 
Long years had passed ; instinctively they 

hushed 
Their laughter then, and spoke in lower 

tones. 



So the dull days crept on with folded wings ; 
The sun, retreating toward the southern 

pole, 
Was sometimes hid from sight by leaden 

clouds, 
And chilly winds began to blow from seas 
And eastern deserts, heralds of the stern 
Gray monarch Winter ; soon the shivering 

land 
Lay bound in icy fetters, and no voice 
From Nature's myriad summer tongues 

could speak 
Of coming life and beauty, — all was death. 



lone. 



II. 




HREE times had Winter's scepter 
ruled the earth, 
And thrice been broken by the 
hand of Spring; 
But by a shorter way than Nature knew 
The guide Necessity was bringing forth 
The woman in lone ere her years, 
And many a grace, unseen by radiant sun 
Of youth and gladness, blossomed in the 

night 
Of sorrow, like some lovely snow-white 

flower 
That shuns the glare of daytime. When 

she passed 
Along the public ways, her floating hair 
And downcast, dark-fringed eyes and quiv- 
ering lips 
Compelled attention ; many turned about 
For second glance, and murmured, " Beau- 
tiful ! " 



1 2 lone. 

But one there was, the proud Neocritus, 
High-priest of great Diana, whose bold gaze 
Respected not her shrinking. Openly 
He led a righteous life, but down beneath 
Lay smouldering an evil, passionate heart, 
Whose fires flamed red in secret. But few 

dared 
A whisper of dark deeds supposed or 

known. 
Because the priest was powerful ; his com- 
mand 
A law supreme. Many a priestess fair 
Serving within the temple, was the tool 
Or partner of his sin. And having marked 
lone's beauty, all his varied arts 
Of soft persuasion were arrayed to win 
The maiden to this virgm company. 
As the lithe serpent seeks to lure the bird 
With fiery, flashing eyes and graceful coils, 
Till the poor victim flutters helplessly, 
The strange, wild fascination having dulled 
The sense of danger. 



lone. 13 

But lone's soul 
Beheld unceasingly the mother's face 
Through mist of tender memory; father's 

age 
And sister's youth required her loving care, 
And one she saw in dreams, she doubted 

not 
Would some day come again. Besides she 

felt 
A vague, unreasoning fear, and strong dis- 
like 
As often as she met Neocritus. 
Yet answer absolute she dared not give. 
And trembling, pleaded longer time for 

thought. 
Whereat the priest, though chafing inwardly, 
Forebore to press his purpose ; better far 
A future favorite than present slave ! 

One day lone, with a heavy heart. 
Was passing lisdessly along the way 
To some secluded spot, when brokenly 
A sound of reading reached her, and the 
voice, 



14 lone. 

Low-toned at first, yet thrilled exultingly, 
As if the reader felt a climax come, — 
A fair, white dayspring, — and his waiting 

soul 
Rose like a lark to meet it. Drawing near 
The open door, she listened eagerly : — 

" / would not have you to be ignorant, 
Brethren, concerning them that are asleep, 
So that ye sorrow not, as others do 
Which have no hope^ 

("Ah !" sighed lone, "I 
Am one of those ; what hope can come 

to me?") 
Again she listened : — 

" For the Lord himself 
Shall come down out of heaven with a 

shout. 
The voice of the archangel, and the trump 
Of God ; thereat the dead in Christ shall 

first 
Arise, then we which are alive shall all 
Be caught up in the clouds to fneet the Lord 
And he foirver with him ! " 



lone. 15 

Here she turned 
And swiftly walked away with burning 

face. 
Surely this was the Christian sect, despised 
By all her people, — in her father's words, 
"A Galilean folly, far beneath 
The least attention of a thoughtful Greek ! " 
She did not know that, years before, the 

flame 
Of Christian zeal had spread from house to 

house. 
Kindled by Paul, nor that the words were 

his 
Which she had heard repeated; but they 

glowed 
Within her like the morning star in heaven, 
Distant and cold, yet hinting warmth and 

cheer. 
"Great words," she mused, ''yet meaning- 
less to me. 
Who are ' the dead in Christ,' and how can 

they 
Be raised by any power this poor sect 

knows ? 



1 6 lone. 

Nay, I am but a foolish child to think 
On such delusions ; none can raise the 
dead ! " 

But still the music of that noble voice 
Lingered within her memory ; and a wish 
That somehow all might be as she had 

heard 
Drew her, almost unconsciously, again 
Some days thereafter, to the same low 

door, 
Trembling with shame, though hungering 

for a hope. 

An influence all unguessed was guiding her 
In ways mysterious to learn of Him, 
The All-sufficient One, whose infinite heart. 
Forgetting none of heaven's vast multi- 
tudes, 
Twined round our little earth when time 

began. 
And in far Eden breathed the breath of life 
Immortal into man, forevermore, — 
Almighty Love, whose everlasting arms. 



lone. 1 7 

That hold the whirUng universe in place, 
Are always underneath the fainting souls 
Of all that seek Him, so that none may sink 
Into eternal darkness, asking light. 

The reading was in progress as she reached 
The Christian's house, and swiftly glanced 

around 
For watchful, curious eyes. Save for herself 
The narrow street was now deserted quite. 
And reassured she listened. Smooth and 

calm, 
In quiet dignity, the reader's words 
Flowed like a steady, sunlight-cleaving 

stream : — 

" God that hath made the world, and all 

therein, 
Seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, 
Doth not inhabit temples made with hands ; 
Neither can he be worshipped with men's 

hands, 
As if he needed aught, for he hath given 
To all the breath of life, and all things else, 



1 8 lone. 

And made all nations of one common blood, 
To dwell on all the earth, and hath ordained 
The times before appointed, and their bounds, 
That they should seek the Lord, if haply 

thus 
In feeling they might find him, though 

he be 
Not far from every one of us, because 
In him we live and move; in him we 

have 
Our being, — as your poets also say : 
For we are all his offspring. The?-efore, 

since 
Mankind is sprung from God, we ought not 

think 
That Deity is like to graven gold. 
Silver, or stone, in forms devised by man. 
God hath allowed these titnes of ignorance. 
But now commands repentance everywhere. 
Because a day hath been appointed when 
The world shall all be fudged in righteous- 
ness 
By one ordained thereto, in sign of which 
He raised him from the dead.'^ 



lone. 19 

lone stood 
Lost in a maze of thought, and scarcely 

heard 
Beyond the strange, new words, " We ought 

not think 
That Deity is hke to graven gold, 
Silver, or stone, in forms devised by man." 
That ancient image in the temple came, 
So she had learned, from mighty Zeus 

himself. 
Descending through the clouds, in the dim. 

dawn 
Of Asian history; who knew if this 
Were truth or not? If not, and man had 

formed 
The statue, was it not the poor, weak 

dream 
Of some old artist? Never help had come 
In answer to her prayers for strength and 

light 
From Artemis; had any ever seen 
In very truth the high, immortal gods? 
Did they exist at all, save in the mind 
Of man, their maker? 



20 



lone. 



While she stood, confused 
With new-born doubts, the little company 
Had closed their service with a hymn of 

praise, 
And now came forth. But yet she heeded 

not, 
Until a touch aroused her; terrified 
She turned, and met ihe frank, inquiring 

eyes 
And gentle question of Alcseus, " Child : 
Art thou in trouble? Let the tender Christ 
Bear all thy burdens, and uplift thy soul ! " 

As when the icy bonds of fountains melt, 
Touched by the morning sunshine, all her 

pride 
Dissolved beneath the sudden sympathy. 
And the dry valley of her spirit filled 
To overflow with rush of tears released. 



At this he led her to a seat within 
The little room, and waited for a space 
Before proceeding ; then with questions kind 
He learned her history. 



lone. 2 1 

Some sixty years 
Of earthly life Alcaens knew, and yet 
Few were the signs of care or weariness ; 
A steadfast peace dwelt ever in his eyes, 
And as he talked with her a heavenly smile 
Hovered about his lips, or glorified 
At one swift radiance all the upturned face. 
Long time they sat there, while the western 

sun 
Began to gather up his golden robes, 
And on her spirit fell a strange, sweet calm, 
As if the Christ had whispered, " Peace, be 

still ! " 

At length she rose to go. Taking her hand 
With all a father's tenderness, he said : 
" Child, if thy mother never knew the 

Christ, 
For lack of opportunity, and yet 
Was heedful of his voice within her heart. 
Unconscious whence it came, I may not 

doubt 
That she has passed through death to 

Paradise. 



22 lone. 

For ' how shall they believe on him of 

whom 
They have not heard ? ' So says the apostle 

Paul, 
And underneath the words I seem to hear 
The heart-beats of the Father's infinite love 
And perfect justice sound in harmony. 
Nay, more, — one day our Master met a 

man 
Blind from his birth, and asking not for 

faith. 
Put clay upon his eyes ; then bade him 

wash 
Within a certain pool, and when he saw. 
Declared himself the Son of God, whereat 
The man believed and worshipped. And 

I know 
That one so patient with the earthly eyes. 
In days when he was in the flesh, is not 
Less tender to the feeble sight of souls, 
Now that he reigns in glory. But to thee 
He giveth more of grace, and stands re- 
vealed 
To-day in all his beauty ; thou hast heard 



lone. 



23 



His words of endless life ; believe in him 
And be at rest and peace forevermore ! 
But yet I would not leave thee unaware 
Of coming trials, for my uncle heard 
The great apostle say that grievous wolves 
Should, after his departure, enter in 
Among us, sparing not the flock. The 

words 
May mean that we must seal our faith with 

death, 
Even as others ; yet remember this, — 
Our light affliction for a moment is, 
And worketh out a far exceeding weight 
Of everlasting glory. Let thy thought 
Dwell on these things, and come to us 

again 
The first day of the week, when thou shalt 

learn 
More of the Saviour ; meantime, fare thee 

well ! " 

So through the twilight haze lone went. 
Slowly and wondering, to her home, and 
found 



24 



lone. 



The place astir with news of Marius, 
Centurion of a company, on the way 
To Ephesus, to aid the garrison. 
And while with various thoughts her heart 

beat fast, 
And flushed her face, and sometimes came 

a smile 
To eyes and lips, as in the former days, 
The father watched her, half in bitterness, 
And murmured to himself, " Youth soon 

forgets ! " 
But rarely did he ask her of her life. 
And seldom had she gone to him for help 
Or counsel since the day her mother died. 
Because his grief absorbed him. So her 

thoughts 
Throughout the week were surging to and 

fro; . 
But one grand purpose, like a steady ship. 
Faint on the far horizon, grew more clear 
And bright and high, as o'er the sea it 

came. 
Though lashed by winds of fear and chilly 

rain, 



lone. 



25 



With waves of doubt strong dashing at the 

prow, 
Till calmer water at the port it reached, 
And in a morning fair, with breezes sweet. 
Dropped anchor in the deep, safe harbor, 

Christ ! 

But how to tell the others of her choice. 
What reasons give beyond their own, or why 
She had not spoken earlier of her mind, — 
Perplexed her yet ; and while she thought 

on this, 
Up from the plains one sunny morn there 

came 
Faint sounds of martial music, — then ap- 
peared 
A rolling cloud of dust, with points of light 
That circled round the roadway's nearest 

bend. 
And slowly rising, thinly veiled the ranks 
Of Roman soldiers, marching cityward, — 
Each moment nearer, wider, more distinct. 
The sunbeams breaking on their burnished 
arms 



26 



lone. 



In glittering wavelets, as the rising tide 
Crept onward up the slope, until at last 
They reached and passed the gates, and 

formed within ; 
Then, while the housetops swarmed with 

eager groups, 
Steadily up the street the column came, 
With rhythmic step and swaying spears and 

shields 
And waving plumes and ensigns gleaming 

high 
And horses neighing at the trumpet call. 
Familiar faces all were in the van, — 
The city's garrison for many months, — 
But closely following their escort marched 
A company of strangers, whom all eyes 
Regarded curiously ; and at their head, 
Mounted upon a proud, high-stepping bay, 
Young Marius, a bronzed Apollo, rode. 
The promise of his childhood beauty filled 
To satisfaction by the ripening years ; 
And many knew the face, as on he passed, 
And shouted friendly greeting ; but the man, 
Erect and flushed, impatient of delay. 



lone. 



27 



Scarce seemed to hear them, while the 

column wheeled 
Into a well-remembered street, and there. 
Hardly a spear-cast from his hungry eyes. 
Arose his boyhood's happy, care-free home, 
The house of Ctesiphon ! And as he gazed, 
Upon the roof appeared the household, all 
Save one whose gentle face he longed to see, 
The only mother that he ever knew; 
And the quick tears sprang up and veiled 

his sight. 
The while they waved a welcome ; then he 

passed, 
Swept onward, as it seemed, by all his men, 
And blended with the throng, so fading out. 
Beyond their keenest vision, as they turned 
And slowly left the roof, lone last. 

How long the day that sunders waiting 

hearts ! 
Upon her dial-plate the shadow slept. 
And Marius, chained by military cares, 
Looked often to the sun, that seemed to 

stand 



28 lone. 

Still in the heavens, while a fervent heat 
Bore down upon the land, until the breeze 
Of morning fled away, as if in fear. 
All life breathed hard, and shrank into the 

shade, 
And when the day king reached his throne 

of noon 
He ruled a silent city. 

Hour by hour. 
High overhead the vault of dazzling blue 
Shone spotless ; then its base began to fade 
Far to the southward, in a veil of mist, 
That gathered into feathery, floating clouds. 
Slow rising upward, and a whisper crept 
Along the land, a message from the sea, 
With promise of refreshing by and by. 

At last the young centurion was released ; 
And in the waning of the day he sat, 
Divested of his armor, at the home. 
And looked again into his dear ones' eyes; 
Without, a fountain in a spacious court 
Plashed musically, while the whirring birds 



lone. 29 

Dipped down to drink and bathe, and scat- 
tered drops 
Like diamonds round the basin. Then he 

told 
Of all his life, and answered questions 

grave 
From Ctesiphon, or listened to the talk 
Of Lesbia and Pelope with smiles, 
But ever glancing where lone sat, 
Was filled with admiration at her face. 
Whose glowing eloquence was more than 

speech ; 
And in his heart he whispered, " She is 
mine ! " 

But while their souls were swept and stirred 

and thrilled 
To strong, glad harmony by winds of love, 
The sky was darkening; glancing up they 

saw 
The storm king's sable hosts arrayed for 

war, — 
His fierce, impatient horses snorting fire, 
Their mighty hoofs upon the firmament, 



30 lone. 

That shook beneath their trampling ; then 

arose 
The low, dread rumbling of his chariot 

wheels. 
But in the pause that followed, suddenly 
Another shadow fell across the floor, 
And in the archway stood a white-robed 

form,. — 
The priest Neocritus. 

Then all arose 
In deference to his rank ; but with a smile 
Less courteous than crafty, he began 
Abruptly, as he took the offered seat : 
** It may surprise thee, Ctesiphon, to know 
The purpose of my coming ; yet I trust 
That it may give thee pleasure. I have long 
Looked favorably upon thine eldest child, 
Because the generous gods have dowered her 
With graces like Pandora's ; and I deemed 
Such beauty should adorn the temple courts 
Of Artemis, our Lady. To this end 
I oft have urged the maiden, but some 
cause — 



lone. 31 

I know not what — restrains her from the 

step; 
Wherefore I call thee to assist my words 
With reasoning of thine own. A father's 

voice 
May well be more effectual than mine 
In setting forth the glory of the choice 
And honor of the service. This I ask, 
Not doubting of thy willingness to grant." 

But Ctesiphon made answer dignified : 

" Thou knowest that my daughters are the 

stay 
And solace of my swift- departing days, 
And surely it were better to have asked 
For my consent before thou soughtest hers. 
Yet think not I am one of those whose 

word 
Is law unbending to a child's desire ; 
lone is of age to know her will, 
And she shall have the fullest liberty 
To choose her future. Daughter, as thy 

wish 
Shall be the answer, what hast thou to say ? " 



32 



lone. 



Then from her seat lone rose, and stood 
Trembling and pale, but with a firm resolve 
To tell them bravely of her new-gained faith. 
Twice she essayed to speak-, but found no 

words, 
And in the glimmering, soundless lightning 

seemed 
Some unsubstantial vision, as it lit 
Her form and features with unearthly 

gleams ; 
And Marius, shuddering, thought of those 

dim shades 
That wander silent through the underworld. 
At last her answer broke the stillness, low 
And faltering at first, then gaining strength : 



" Father, I thank thee truly, — not alone 
For these, thy generous words, but for the 

love 
Which thou hast always lavished. But to 

prove 
My gratitude, I can but gladly take 
The freedom given. And one thing I have 

done, 



lone. 33 

Sure of thy kindness, which must now be 

told; 
Some other time will serve for questioning, 
Therefore I ask thy patience. 

" Never once 
Have I desired to leave thee, but have 

sought 
Instead to be like sunshine in the house, 
Since that dark day we all remember well ; 
But mine own life was hopeless, till I 

learned 
A better way of living. I have left 
The ancient faith, unsatisfied, and now 
Am resting on the power of One whose 

name 
Is ever3'where despised. And this new life 
Has lifted me above all common things, 
And filled me with its music ; and I feel 
That far beyond our earthly days, and 

death. 
Is life and joy undreamed of, peace and 

rest. 
My mother, — and the Christ of Galilee ! " 
3 



34 tone. 

She ceased ; but none replied, — astonish- 
ment 
Held all immovable, till Pelope, 
Close nestling at her shoulder, heard a faint, 
Soft whisper in the darkness of the room : 
" Dear Lord, I have confessed thee ! Oh, do 

thou 
Remember me before thy Father's throne ! " 

The high-priest waited for the old man's 

word ; 
But Ctesiphon sat still and made no sign, — 
His head bowed heavily upon his hand. 
As if he heard not, saw not ; whereupon 
lone spoke again, with dignity : 
" Thou hast the answer, priest, — a Christian 

maid 
Disdains the service of a heathen shrine ! " 

Neocritus arose ; an angry flame 

Burned in his face, and flickered in his 

voice : 
" So be it, then ! Doubtless thy words are 

wise. 



lone. 35 

And all the rest of Ephesus are fools, 
Pleased with a toy ; but yet I say to thee, 
Beware the vengeance of the holy gods ! 
The thunderbolts of Zeus — " 

Quick, as he spoke, 
A lightning flash that tore the heavens 

wide 
Blazed full upon their faces, and a crash 
As if the very hills were shattered, rolled 
And boomed around them. With a startled 

cry 
The trembling children caught their sister's 

hands 
And clung about her, Lesbia gasping, " See ! 
The gods are angry at thy evil choice ! " 
" Nay, Lesbia dear, fear not ; they have no 

power 
Either for good or ill." Another flash, 
Another deafening peal, — and Marius stood 
With folded arms and proud, uplifted head 
Between the sisters and the haughty priest. 
And thus addressed him : " If the gods are 

wronged. 
Let them avenge the insult as they will. 



36 lone. 

Thou earnest for an answer, which thou 

hast; 
What further need is yet unsatisfied?" 
"Young man," the priest returned, "what- 
ever else, 
I need not thee to prompt me ; and if thou 
Dost Hnk thy hfe with hers, I need not ask 
For this thy rudeness greater recompense. 
I go, and trust my meaning will be plain 
Hereafter." 

He was gone. 

A silence fell 
Upon them, deep and dread, their throb- 
bing hearts 
Filled with a nameless fear. Strange whis- 
perings 
Passed through the air above, as if the storm, 
Uncertain how to strike, were seeking out 
Each point of weakness. 

But lone marked 
That through all this her father had not 
moved ; 



lone. 37 

Alarmed at length, she swiftly crossed the 

room 
And knelt before him, drawing down the 

hand 
That held his forehead, as she gently said, 
"Dear Father, art thou angry? Have I 

done 
So wrong in this? None loves thee more 

than I ; 
Look in my face, and see ! " He raised 

his head, 
And tears bedimmed the eyes that looked 

in hers ; 
A long, fond gaze ; a tender, trembling 

kiss, — 
" Could I be angry with thy mother's 

child?" 

"But, father, have I done a fooHsh thing?" 

" I know not, dear one, save it be not wise 
To cross the will of great Neocritus, 
As we have done to-day. But for thy 
faith, 



38 lone. 

Keep it, if thou art pleased ; small faith 

have I 
In aught beyond my present sight and 

touch. 
Sit here, my daughter, till the storm is past, 
That I may feel thee near me." 

Silently 
The others clustered round them. 

Far away 
The murmuring voices of the upper air 
Swelled to a sigh, a moan ; then with a 

roar 
Weaving all lesser noises into one, 
The storm came rushing on. Swiftly the 

clouds, 
Spreading their banners black, joined rank 

to rank 
And hurled at once their javelins thick and 

fast, — 
A wild, resistless avalanche of rain ; 
And all the little wandering mountain 

streams 



lone. 39 

Were swollen to foaming torrents ; and the 

trees, 
Lashed by the whirlwind's fury, bowed their 

heads 
And groaned submission to the conqueror; 
Fierce Hghtnings flashed incessantly, and loud 
The thunder spoke in awful majesty 
Unto the crouching earth ; then darkness 

deep, 
Like bird of evil omen, settled down, 
With mighty, outstretched wings. 

Within the room 
None spoke a word, till Marius' manly voice 
Startled their silence : " Father Ctesiphon, 
I know but little of Tone's faith. 
And may not guess the meaning of this 

storm, 
Unless it be a warning ; but I know 
That I have loved her since our childhood 

days. 
And whether well or ill that she has done. 
And punishment or not, I ask of her 
The greatest gift that man can ever ask. 



40 lone. 

I do not fear the priest ; and if the gods 
Should smite her to the earth, my only joy 
Would be to die with her in my embrace 
As promised wife. If thou approvest, thus 
I make request, despite the frown of Jove." 

" Aye, Marius, it is well, if she consent." 

"lone, dearest, it is yea, — or nay?" 

" Dear Marius," she began, with choking 

voice, 
" As kind and brave as ever thou hast been. 
Didst thou not know that I was always 

thine ? 
I cannot give thee more than what thou hast ; 
And yet thy life and mine should never 

join, 
Did I not know no evil would descend 
On thy dear head for aught that I have 

done. 
Father, thy blessing?" 

Kneeling at his feet 
They waited for the words. 



lone. 41 

At length he sighed, — 
" O unknown Powers that govern earth 

and sky 
And time and Ufe and death, if ye exist, 
Be merciful ! Be merciful to these 
My children ! Grant them golden years of 

joy, 
With love new springing at each rising sun, 
And intertwine the threads of life so close 
That at the last the fatal Severeir 
May not divide them, — one in life and 

death ! " 
A pause, and then he said in calmer voice, 
" The rain has ceased, my children ; let us 

go 
And from the housetop watch the clouds 
disperse." 

The fresh, cool breezes fanned them in the 

face. 
Freighted with delicate odors, as they stood 
And saw the scattered legions of the sky 
Slowly retiring, — some in sullen ranks. 
While others, with a new allegiance, turned 



42 lone. 

And caught the colors of the conquering 

sun, 
Flaming in gold and crimson ; and the light 
Of victory and peace lay over all 
The city and the plain. White marble 

walls, 
Dripping with rain, reflected back the rays 
As from a mirror ; groups of trees stood up 
And held aloft their foliage, brilliant 

green, — 
Great sheaves of showery emeralds ; gardens 

fair 
Arose in terraces of sparkling grass, 
With fountains, gorgeous flowers and gleam- 
ing shrines ; 
Above them, palaces and lofty towers 
Climbed to a dizzy height, enriched and 

faced 
With ivory and dazzling bronze ; below, 
Like burnished shields, lay little lakes and 

pools ; 
Westward, the harbor quivered restlessly, 
A glowing topaz ; here the Forum shone, 
Yonder the Stadium ; and the generous light 



lone. 43 

Rolled o'er the benches of the Theatre 
A cataract of gold ; while in the east 
The Temple glittered like a mount of snow ; 
And round about the city curved the plain, 
All gemmed with wild-flowers, as a circlet 

bright 
Bent round the fair, white arm of Loveli- 
ness, — 
Her shifting, shimmering veil of thinnest 

mist 
Spread out, and floating, whispering to the 

sky, 
" Bend lower now, and take her ; she is 
thine ! " 

And Marius, smiling as he read the scene. 
Drew from his tunic's folds a bracelet, 

wrought 
With intricate design of bird and leaf 
And flower, jewelled, flashing in the light. 
Clasped it around lone's yielding arm. 
And bent his head and kissed her on the 

brows. 
Too happy for a word, she raised her face 



44 



loue. 



With snmmg, moistened eyes, and tremu- 
lous lips, 
And answered him in silence. 

Long they stood, 
Clasped in each other's arms. 



The sunset paled, 
And shadows deepened slowly into night, 
While one by one the calm, bright stars 

appeared ; 
And downward from the deep, mysterious 

sky, 
Like perfume dripping from an upturned 

vase. 
Softly and sweet, descended balmy rest. 




lone. 45 



III. 

WIFTLY the weeks and months 
had flown away, 
Till once again the glad- eyed 
Summer stood 
Close at the threshold of her kingdom fair. 
'T was early morning now upon the plains 
Of Ephesus. A faint, gray mist upcurled 
From Cayster, winding slowly toward the sea 
In slumbrous music, rippled by the breeze 
That stole through groves of oak and tere- 
binth 
And cedar, fresh and fragrant. Meadow 

flowers 
Upraised their swaying, dew-filled cups, 

and smiled 
To the fast paling stars, as if to say, 
" O brothers, rest, and we will shine for 

you ! " 
From river margin and the pearl-hung 
grass 



46 



lone. 



And oleander bushes and the woods 
Came twittering questions of the day's 

advance, 
While glowed the east with promise, — 

amber skies 
Yielding to orange, melting into gold, 
Till up the gleaming pathway came the sun 
In royal majesty, and touched the tops 
Of Prion and Coressus, sister hills, 
With magic fire ; then, shooting swift and 

far 
His glittering arrows, pierced the lingering 

shades. 



The crisp, delicious air was vibrant now 
With wakening life, and every feathered 

throat 
' Poured out a flood of golden melody, 
And 'insects droned and chirped, while 

flocks and herds 
Moved slowly toward the river pools to 

drink. 
Soon city gates were opened ] guards were 

changed ; 



lone. 47 

Some few brown, sinewy laborers appeared 
Upon the streets, with instruments of toil ; 
Sellers of fruits made ready for the day ; 
Young flower girls began to twine their 

wreaths, 
And in an hour of sunrise all the town 
Hummed with a varied population. Here, 
Soldiers in shining armor, shaven priests, 
And civil officers in trailing robes ; 
There, Jews of Palestine, or little groups 
Of Grecian poets and philosophers ; 
Ladies of rank in gilded litters, borne 
By stalwart men, who slowly pushed their 

way, 
Elbowing active sailors from the coasts 
Of Tyre and Sidon, or thin Bedouins 
From lonely Petra and the wilderness ; 
The dwellers by Euphrates and the Nile 
Mixed with the half-clad Ethiopians ; 
Princes, magicians, keen-eyed merchants, 

■ chiefs. 
Barbarians of the North, brought side by 

side 
With temple servants, artists, artisans, 



48 lone. 

Musicians, perfume-mixers, burnishers, 
Or stooping water-carriers, patient beasts 
Of burden, and their drivers, — slaves of all 
Degree and occupation crowded close 
With poor and helpless ones, who idly 

gazed 
Upon the busy scene, or feebly begged 
For food and coins. The dwellers in the 

town 
Were far outnumbered by the visitors 
Drawn hither by the festival and games 
In honor of Diana ; for the sun 
Had filled the season with exuberance, 
And springing grass and flowers and waving 

wheat 
And whispering leaves and opening buds 

were held 
To be bright tokens of her wondrous power 
And condescension. 

At the city gates 
The throng divided, and the larger part 
Hurried impatient to the Stadium ; 
Another company, with slower steps, 



lone. 49 

Passed in procession to the Temple, led 
By priests and priestesses; fair Lydian 

youths 
And maidens, singing soft, voluptuous airs, 
Mingled with merry Phrygians, while here 
Strode a Galatian warrior, yonder one 
Of Cappadocia ; grave, gray devotees 
From all the provinces of Asia moved 
In strange varieties of dress and speech, 
But with one purpose, — to propitiate 
The goddess for their homes. 

At length they reached 
The open plain, and knelt adoringly. 
While in full view the mighty structure rose. 

A terraced way led to a staircase broad. 
Polished and worn by countless worshippers, 
And from the marble platform, smooth as 

glass, 
An hundred columns reared their stately 

strength, 
Massive and carved, full thirty cubits high, — 
Many the gifts of kings, and others wrought 



50 lone. 

By pious hands of masters in their art. 
Far up, above their graceful capitals, 
Cornice and frieze and architrave spread out 
Stories of strife and conquest mystical. 
Crowned by a roof of gleaming marble tiles ; 
And all the building throbbed with sculp- 
tured Hfe, 
Or glowed with splendid painting ; calm- 
eyed gods 
And goddesses, or struggling Amazons, 
Heroes and warriors ; Hermes, mighty Zeus, 
Or Pallas, Her^, Artemis herself, 
And Aphrodite, Eros with his bow, 
Pdseidon and his trident, deities 
Of stream and field * and forest ; satyrs, 

nymphs, 
Or demigods, — as wondrous Herakles, 
Strongest of mortals. Here a Centaur stood ; 
Yonder came Tritons blowing on their 

shells ; 
And all around were lions' heads, and rams. 
And piled up fruit, mingled with opening 

flowers 
And twining honeysuckle. Phidias, 



lone. 51 

Praxiteles, Apelles, many more, 

Masters and skilful workmen; all had 

wrought 
With far-famed architects, until there stood 
At Ephesus the wonder of the world 
And envy of all Hellas. In the midst 
The statue towered high, — an image rude. 
Yet reverenced more than all the glorious 

forms 
By which it was surrounded. Even so 
The soul of man, reaching a barren height 
Unsatisfied, had waited not, but turned. 
And backward traced its wandering, doubt- 
ful steps, 
Till every higher faculty became 
The handmaid of a lower. Grand indeed 
The Temple stood, yet shrined a foolish 

faith ; 
And even the lowest, meanest worshipper. 
Trembling, perhaps, in superstitious fear. 
Had powers greater than he gave his gods. 

Rising at length, the multitude advanced. 
And hours were spent in sacrifice and rites 



52 lone. 

Mysterious, — sacred dances, incense, chants. 
Till after mid-day ; then the priests ap- 
peared. 
With all the temple servitors again. 
And followed by the people, took the road 
That reached the Stadium. Musicians first, 
With ringing cymbals, piercing double-ilutes, 
And other instruments ; then girls and boys, 
Singing and dancing, bearing fruits and 

flowers ; 
And after them, Neocritus alone, — 
His thick, black hair uncovered to the sun, 
A stern, set face, thin lips, and flashing eyes, 
And garmented in sacrificial robes. 
With heavy, lustrous folds. Behind him 

marched 
The priests and priestesses, in ranks that 

spread 
Across the roadway, chanting high and shrill 
The hymn to Artemis. And others bore 
Aloft upon their shoulders images 
Of gold and silver ; then the surging crowd 
Pressed forward shouting, joined along the 
way 



lone. 53 

By scores belated, till they reached the arch 
Of entrance to the Stadium. 

Then at once 
The vast assemblage rose tumultuously, 
And everywhere were lifted arms and scarfs, 
And fluttering veils, and a great, throbbing 

roar 
Of eager voices : 

'^Artemis f' 

"Behold 
Great Artemis ! " 

" Diana ! " 

" Artemis ! 
All Asia worships thee ! " 

''Diana I'' 

" Great 
Is Artemis of Ephesus !'' 

And spears 
And swords and shields responded with, a 

clang 
That seemed to shake the building. Only 

one 



54 tone. 

In all that multitude was silent, one 

Who leaned against a pillar, faint and pale 

In agony of spirit, — Marius. 

His men had marvelled much to see him ride 
Before them on that morning listlessly, 
The loose rein dropping from his nerveless 

hands. 
And all unseeing where he went, his eyes 
Too weary for a glance, his body drooped 
In utter weakness. Now he stood alone, 
And shivered as if sickness seized him. 

Why? 

Beneath his feet a dungeon lay ; within, 
Close crowded in the narrow, noisome place. 
Were Christians ; all the steadfast little 

church, 
Alcgeus, — and lone ! 

On the day 
The high-priest left the house of Ctesiphon, 
Angered that one slight girl should balk his 
power, 



lone. 



55 



He planned revenge. A word dropped here 

and there, 
A hint to artisans, a prophecy 
Of danger should the Christians multiply 
Again, as years before, at words of Paul, 
A warning that the city might decline 
If reverence for Artemis should fail, 
Had blown the ashes of indifference 
Aside and fanned the slumbering coals of 

hate 
Into a flame, till all at once a mob 
Rushed to Alcseus' house in fury, dragged 
The Christians forth and bound them, hurry- 
ing back 
To the authorities, clamoring for their death, 
Which, after consultation, was decreed, 
Pending permission of the Emperor, 
As fitting climax to the festival 
In preparation. 

Ctesiphon had gone 
With Marius impetuous to the priest, 
And offered gold and jewels, — anything 
To save lone ; but of no avail 



56 lone. 

Were all their efforts, — coldly he replied : 
"Our Lady Artemis desires the hearts 
As well as offerings, and it is her will 
That all who mock her shall be put to 

death ; 
Be thankful that your lives are not required. 
And cease to ask for her who dared despise 
Our holy faith ! ' 

All hope was over now, 

Unless she should recant ; but from below 

Faintly the sound of Christian hymns arose, 

And Marius felt that none of them would 

yield. 

No, never ! In that suffocating cave, 
Darker than midnight, all were kneeling now. 
Led by Alcaeus in a fervent prayer. 
The weary hours of day and night had 

passed 
Alike to them ; the only light they had 
Glared from the lions' eyes behind the bars ; 
Instead of heaven's sweet winds upon the 

brow^ 



lone. 57 

The hot breath of their nostrils ; and they 

heard 
In all the pauses of the sacred song 
Deep growls of hunger. Grasping each 

other's hands 
They trembled, — but a consciousness of 

power 
Beyond their own upheld them. 

Meanwhile, games 
Were going on above ; the wrestlers strove 
And writhed for mastery, and athletes ran. 
As if by Hermes sandalled, for the crown ; 
The pugilists, with heads and necks like 

bulls, 
Rained desperate blows upon each other ; 

then 
Strong gladiators struggled for their lives. 
With swords and nets and tridents. And 

their strife 
Stirred up the people as wild beasts are 

stirred 
To savagery by the taste of blood. 
And all along the benches ran the words. — 



58 



lone. 



A murmur, rising to an awful cry, 

Hoarse and persistent, crueler than death, — 

"Bring out the Christians!'''' 

Then a space was cleared 
And fenced with soldiers, and an altar placed 
Before a statue of the goddess, wreathed 
About the base with roses ; and behind 
Were ranged the priestesses, — the Asiarch 
Lysanias of Smyrna in the chair 
Of judgment. Soon the prisoners were 

brought 
Before him, one by one, Alcseus first. 



The accusation read, Lysanias asked : 
"Art thou a Christian?" 

"Yea!" 
"And dost thou know 
The penalty?" 

"I do." 

" What madness, man, 
Has prompted thee to throw away thy life ? 
Be reasonable, — curse the Christ ; that done, 
I may release thee." 



lone. 59 

"Ay, thou dost not know 
That he who loses hfe for Christ's sweet 

sake 
Shall find it more abundantly. Thy power 
And all thou hast is given thee from him ! " 

"Take him away." 

And hurriedly they tried 
The others ; but none yielded. Last of all 
lone answered to the summons. Then 
The high-priest had her father brought 

within, 
With Lesbia and Pelope, that all 
Might suffer to the utmost, and prepared 
To read the grim indictment. 

But a hand 
Seized hers in shaking grasp, and in her ear 
Trembled the voice of Marius, changed 

and harsh 
With deadly fear, as rapidly he said : 
" lone, dearest, listen ! Leave the Christ 
And call upon Diana ! Take of these," — 



6o lone. 

Catching some jewels from a casket brought 
By Lesbia, — " these ornaments of thine, 
And offer on her altar for thy life ! 
Nay, take the bracelet, dearest, for I know 
That I must give thee up in life or death ; 
But oh, thou must not die! lone — " 

"Dear—" 
She slowly turned her face, all wet with 

tears. 
And looked him in the eyes. The throng 

around 
Bent forward eagerly to catch the words : 
" My Marius, dost thou tempt my soul with 

these 
To leave my Master, as Iscariot did? 
And even if I might, what should I care 
For any life without thee? Oh, my own. 
Dear father, sisters, friends, I love not life 
Better than truth ! The gracious Christ I 

serve 
Will raise me up again. Let all of you 
Who love me learn of him, and any death 
Shall only re-unite us. Marius, 



lone. 6 1 

Thou hast not dreamed how much I love 

thee yet ; 
But thou wilt know hereafter." 

Down she drooped 
Her weary head, and murmured, "O my 

Lord, 
I thank thee for this sudden, wondrous 

strength, 
Made perfect in my weakness ! " 

And a sigh 
Involuntary broke from all the crowd, 
As the tense bowstring, suddenly released, 
Springs to its place with apprehensive thrill, 
Foreseeing death in the arrow. Ctesiphon 
Groaned in despair, and wrung his helpless 

hands 
Convulsively ; and down the sisters' cheeks 
Tears fell like rain. But Marius staggered 

back, 
Weak as a child, and would have fallen to 

earth 
Had not a soldier stayed him. 



62 lone. 

Then the priest, 
Unmoved, began to read the charge. But 

she — 
Lifting her violet eyes above the throng, 
Above the circUng thousands in the seats, 
Along the side of green Coressus, up 
Beyond the trilling, soaring birds — at 

length 
Rested in God's blue sky, while all of earth 
Seemed to dissolve away. Slowly a vision 

sweet 
Opened before her. 

For a pearly cloud 
That closed one gate of heaven rolled 

aside, 
And a bright spirit beckoned her within, — 
The mother's face and form ; but glorious 

now 
In such a smile as those redeemed may 

wear ! 
Then, while the glad sight filled lone's 

gaze, 
And scarce a breath escaped the parted lips. 



hue. 63 

Her hands close locked, in rapture keen as 

pain, 
Suddenly all the avenue was filled 
With countless flashing ones, that raised 

their harps 
And sang triumphantly, " Ay, blest are they, 
The pure in heart, for they shall see their 

God!'' 
And others answered them afar, " These 

came 
Out of great tribulation, and their robes 
Are white and glistefiifig ; they are washed 

in blood. 
Even the Lamb's, who bears away the sin 
Of all the world/" 

And then a splendor burned. 
Dazzling the wing-veiled angels; but she 

saw. 
Even with eyelids closed, the form of One 
Like to the Son of Man, with hands and 

feet 
Pierced by the cross-nails ; and his thrilling 

voice 



64 loiie. 

Rang full and tender as the far, sweet chime 
Of silver cymbals : 

" Be thou not afraid 
Of them that kill the body, and after 

THAT 

Have power to do no more, — fear not, 

MY CHILD ; 
I AM THE resurrection AND THE LIFE, 

And thou shalt be with me in Paradise 
To-day ! " 

The Asiarch, wondering at her face. 
Thrice questioned ere she heard him ; then 

she said, 
"Yea, I am ready ! " So they led her out, — 
The rude, imbruted Ethiopian slaves 
Awe-struck and trembling at her confi- 
dence, — 
And from the arena's sands of bloody death, 
She, with a score of others, entered Life, 



n 



lone. 65 

Beneath the dust of centuries there Ues 
A sculptured tomb of marble, with these 

words 
Engraved upon the pavement : " In this 

PLACE 

Sleeps in the peace of Jesus Christ the 

DUST 

Of Ctesiphon and Ione, side by side, 
Father and daughter. 

" Blessed are the dead 
Whose death is in the Lord ; they rest 

from strife, 
And their works follow them. 

"This tomb was built 
By Marius, a minister of Christ." 



■^^^•^ 



